


Go Fish!

by elem (elem44)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elem44/pseuds/elem
Summary: The story begins towards the end of series seven, between the episodes ‘Friendship One’ and ‘Natural Law’.  Kathryn is feeling the strain of seven years of endless travel and during an away mission, faces one of her worst nightmares.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My request was from Lady Callista.  
>  _I would love a J/C fanfic based upon an episode that isn’t normally used for J/C fics. (ie not Resolutions, Shattered, Coda, etc…). It can be a friendship moment, a first love scene, or anything in between; what I really want is a unique situation or a new spin on some brief moment in an episode_.
> 
> As always, hugs and thanks to Kim J for beta-ing beyond the call. It has been fiddled with however, so any mistakes are mine.

Another day, another planet, another first contact.

Kathryn took a deep breath and bit back a weary sigh.

Would there ever be an end to this?

An unwelcome barrage of depressing thoughts threatened to overwhelm her.

Over the years, the Delta Quadrant had been more than generous with its trials and challenges but the last few weeks had been especially giving. They’d dealt with one unforeseen disaster after another.  She wasn’t sure why, but each incident seemed to add an unwieldy weight to the load she had to bear and she was having trouble shaking off a sense of impending doom.

Most recently, thanks to the Doctor’s untimely foray into the holographic literary world, most of the Alpha Quadrant now thought that Voyager was a ship full of depraved and vicious pirates, led by their tyrannical megalomaniac captain who murdered unsuspecting crewmen whenever the mood took her. Owen Paris had been quick to reassure her that there had been no lasting damage to Voyager’s – and in turn, her – reputation. But Kathryn knew what people were like – ‘where there’s smoke, there’s fire’ – and the thought that they would make that assumption made her stomach churn with unease.

No sooner had that particular fire been extinguished then another tragedy struck. During a legitimate mission for Starfleet – their first since establishing two-way communication with the Alpha Quadrant – they’d lost Joe Carey. His death affected everyone, but Kathryn had found herself fighting a losing battle to overcome her bitterness and grief. It was such a pointless death and one that could have been avoided if only she’d taken a less hardline approach in her negotiations. She knew Verin was unstable but she hadn’t thought he’d resort to cold-blooded murder. Even now, her heart missed a beat when she thought about it.

Chakotay had tried to help – as always vigilant and aware of her moods – but, as the leader of the away mission, he was carrying his own burden of guilt and grief over the engineer’s death. The emotions involved were complex and when adding them to the years of constant stress, it wasn’t any wonder that she was feeling the strain.

Nothing was ever straightforward out here.

To avert a familiar but soul-gnawing wash of pessimism, she gave herself a mental shake and took a moment to study the alien sitting across the table from her.

Lavan Roztok was a mountain of a man; at least seven feet tall, with a chest like a barrel, a booming voice to match and a wheezing laugh that he indulged in far too often for her liking – his face bloating and turning an unnerving shade of purplish-maroon with each rolling guffaw.

She was still trying to get a handle on him and any potential dangers that might lurk beneath his garrulous extroverted exterior. But all things being equal, he seemed to be exactly as he presented himself – a boorish, loud but not entirely unlikeable character. However, she couldn’t ignore the cynical mental voice reminding her that the bar was set pretty low, thanks to a litany of disastrous first contacts over the years and that one should never judge a book by its cover.

It paid to be vigilant.

Oblivious to her scrutiny, the alien’s meaty brow concertinaed into a spectacular frown as he snorted and glared at the cards in his hand. His tells were an easy read – making this not much of a competition – but Kathryn wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was one small highlight in an otherwise dismal day of negotiations.

Frustration simmered just below her thin veneer of diplomatic propriety and it was difficult to ignore the burn. Her hands shook with the effort and she could feel her jaw tightening as she watched her opponent gnaw on his knuckles while he tried to decide on his next move.

Employing some of Tuvok’s stress reduction techniques, she took another deep breath, exhaled slowly and allowed her attention to wander. She hoped the momentary mental holiday would restore her equilibrium enough that she could at least muddle her way through the remainder of this ridiculous first contact.

From her place on the podium, she let her gaze drift over the great hall, past the cluttered tables where Voyager’s crew mingled with beings of every size, shape and color, and towards the unsettlingly familiar view beyond. Her shoulders slumped as she took in the ho-hum vista of yet another nondescript Delta Quadrant planet.

Grasslands, forests and wooded mountains. Same old, same old.

Swallowing a sigh, Kathryn chided herself. She really needed to get a handle on her dreary mood.

However, it was easier said than done.

When had it all become so tedious and tiresome? The question rattled around in her brain but the answer continued to elude her.

Year in, year out, time inexorably plodded on, each new landfall indistinguishable from the last, merging into the next with mind-numbing predictability. It was becoming more and more difficult to hold head and heart together on their journey through this distant arm of the galaxy.

She silently scoffed at that notion. _‘Their journey’_ – it sounded so romantic and purposeful, as though there were some grand design to being marooned a lifetime away from home.

There wasn’t anything sanctifying about their collective suffering and she was long past trying to fool herself with that tired delusion.

The truth was it had been one stupendous blunder; a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now they were stuck in this endless, lonely and oft-times terrifying, quest for home.

There was nothing the least bit romantic about their stop-start stumble through these vast tracts of unknown space. Like a drunk ricocheting up a corridor, they lurched from one planet to the next, pleading their case to a grab-bag of mostly belligerent, and often downright virulent beings; begging for food and supplies in the vain hope that the next first contact wouldn’t be their last.

Every goddamned parsec of each blighted light year that they’d travelled so far had been hard-fought and dutifully paid for with their peace of mind and emotional resilience.

Not wanting to put too fine a point on it, after almost seven years, they were wearing out.

Looking around at the weary faces of her crew and the disheartened posture of so many of them, a huge surge of guilt washed over her, making it hard to breathe.

It shouldn’t have to be like this.

Kathryn tried to stop the bitterness from showing, but on days like today, it was just too hard to maintain the upbeat facade. Their progress was measured in such small increments that it hardly seemed worth the effort.

But she couldn’t give up, because underneath the grinding ennui was the almost paralyzing fear that if she stopped, she would never regain the momentum – physically or emotionally.

Thus, with no choice other than to forge ahead, with guilt as her guide and bitter dread as the driving force behind her obsession to get home, she pushed aside the encroaching state of ‘don’t cares,’ steeled her spine and prepared to do her duty.

Looking across the table, she gave her host a gracious smile.

* * *

They were guests of the Onkalli – the unremarkable inhabitants of this equally uninspiring world. Voyager was in desperate need of gallicite and perishable foodstuffs, and it was Kathryn’s job to charm their latest ‘acquaintance’ into an amenable enough state so that he was willing to negotiate a trade. It was a hackneyed old routine and she bit back the acid tang of resentment to concentrate on the matter at hand.

She glanced down at the cards she held and faltered before throwing another log onto the fire of her maudlin thoughts. It had come to this pitiful juncture; their safe passage through Onkalli space hinged on her luck at cards.

How the hell had she managed to find herself in this situation? She shied away from the answer but couldn’t help a snide chorus of past disasters from hijacking her inner musings. How had she managed to find herself in any one of the nightmarish situations she’d endured since their arrival in the Delta Quadrant?

God, could it get any worse?

She refused to consider the answer to that question. It would only be asking for trouble.

This ludicrous turn of events certainly wasn’t what she’d expected after giving the order to land Voyager on this remote M class planet. How to explain this in her logs without looking like a fool was just another problem to be tackled in the days ahead.

The entire situation was ridiculous.

They’d made contact with the Onkallins several days ago after long-range sensors picked up large deposits of precious gallicite sitting just below the surface of the planet’s northern most continents. Their leader, Lavan Roztok, was more than happy to negotiate a trade, inviting Kathryn and her crew to his planet.

It all seemed too good to be true.

As it turned out, it was.

Once they were within reach, Roztok, in a manner closely resembling that of a used-shuttle salesman, added a proviso to his ‘welcome.’

She should have known. Wasn’t it always this way?

He wanted something in return for his hospitality.

Kathryn had girded her loins, ready to recite the usual litany of reasons why weapons and technology – the typical currency insisted upon by the likes of Roztok – were off the negotiating table. However, instead of photon torpedoes and replicator technology, he’d asked for a ‘token of trust.’

This ‘token’ could take any form Kathryn felt was appropriate. If he approved and deemed Voyager and its crew worthy trading partners, then, and only then, would he and his rag-tag consortium consider doing business.

His demands were gallingly vague and only after several frustrating and circuitous conversations did they finally nut out exactly what he was after. He wanted a gesture of good faith; something that would give him an overall ‘flavor’ – culturally rather than culinary, she’d hoped – of the far flung visitors he had invited to his world.

In a stroke of what Kathryn thought was genius, Tuvok suggested that they forward a list of Alpha Quadrant recreational activities as a means of introduction. She’d readily agreed.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but how many roads to hell were paved with those good intentions?

After perusing the list, Roztok had become enamored with the concept of gambling and in particular, the type of gambling associated with card games. Glancing around the tables, Kathryn supposed she should be grateful that it wasn’t something worse. When one considered the vast array of Alpha Quadrant leisure activities on file, the potential for a diplomatic disaster was almost a given.

Being thankful for small mercies was sadly becoming her patented catch cry.

So here they were playing card games, any and all card games, as a means of winning their supplies – Black Jack, Poker, Gin Rummy, Bridge, even Old Maid and Go Fish!.

As if to add an exclamation point to that thought, a large alien sitting behind her slammed his hand onto the table and bellowed, _“Snap!”_ Kathryn jumped and turned to see him chortle and greedily scoop up a small pile of cards.

Tempted to pinch herself to make sure that this wasn’t some sort of insane nightmare, she instead took another deep breath and tried to figure out how in god’s name she could bring this encounter to a speedy and successful conclusion without causing a diplomatic incident or worse.

Her lips thinned in irritation and she could feel her entire face tighten as she fought the impulse to throw her cards on the table and scream hysterically at no one in particular.

While she battled the temptation to ‘chuck a fit’ as her mother would call it, she got the distinct feeling that she was being watched. Glancing around the table, her eyes met those of her first officer.

With an almost imperceptible movement of his brow, he asked the silent question, ‘ _Are you all right?’_

Her equally indiscernible nod was supposed to reassure him. However, his nano-frown remained firmly in place but his gaze softened and her heart melted a little. He knew how she was feeling and the micro gestures were his way of lending support and letting her know that she wasn’t in this alone.

God, what would she do without him?

The mere thought brought a sting of tears to her eyes.

Not a day went by that she didn’t thank her lucky stars that he was her second in command and more importantly, her friend. Their rapport was uncanny and after seven years of working side by side, they knew each other better than anyone else in the universe – a fact that was at the same time comforting as well as a little daunting. There wasn’t a lot that she could hide from him and this free flow of thoughts and emotions was what made them such an exemplary command team, but it was also a treacherous road to travel. It was getting harder and harder to remain aloof and distant, and under circumstances such as these, it would be so easy to tip over the protocol precipice into the deep ravine of need. Kathryn idly wondered if Chakotay had to fight as hard as she did to avoid the temptation.

She didn’t think so; he seemed to have a much healthier grip on his emotional equilibrium than she did and it was something she envied. But, in the end, it mattered little one way or the other whether or not they ever considered breaching those walls. There were always more pressing matters at hand. Feeding the crew and repairing the warp drive were today’s priorities and with a never-ending array of these and other obstacles in their path, they had little choice but to ignore the yearning and struggle on.

Their voluble host suddenly demanded her attention, asking her if she had a three of diamonds. She refocused her attention on Roztok, shook her head and answered with a smile. “Go Fish.”

The alien snorted and frowned but in the amicable spirit of the game, he picked up another card from the stack in the middle of the table and began rearranging his hand.

Kathryn took another moment to study her newest ‘acquaintance.’

He hailed from a neighboring star system and was responsible for setting up this enclave of slightly crooked, bordering-on-corrupt individuals, as a kind of off-the-map trading post. If given a choice, Kathryn would have happily bypassed the planet, but Voyager’s need for gallicite was critical and she couldn’t risk missing any opportunity to resupply. As had happened on so many occasions, circumstances beyond her control had ruled her actions and she’d made the best decision she could within the limited scope of what the Delta Quadrant had on offer.

Despite her dreary thoughts, things were going quite well. She’d already won several hands of _Snap!_ , Gin Rummy and Poker, and she was about to blitz the field in _Go Fish!_ – her instructors at the Academy would be so proud. If she ever made it back to the Alpha Quadrant, her first job would be to rewrite Starfleet’s first contact handbook – they really had no idea. The thought amused her for a moment and the corner of her mouth twitched as a mental image flashed through her mind of Admirals Nemimbeh, Chapman and Nechayev sitting down to a rousing and instructional hand of _Go Boom!_

Looking up, she caught Chakotay’s eye and he raised his brow in question once more, no doubt wondering what she had found so amusing. He would enjoy the visual image, so she made a mental note to tell him about it later – now wasn’t the time. There were serious matters at hand – it seemed that winning the mother lode had whittled down to the unhappy chance of whether or not her host held a Jack of Clubs.

She asked Roztok that very question and waited for his response.

In a rush of air that rearranged several cards on the table, he huffed dramatically before handing over the sought-after card.

Kathryn laid her pairs on the table, winning the game, the cache of gallicite and hopefully, the right to negotiate for some fresh fruit and vegetables.

Employing her most diplomatic tone, she inclined her head and smiled, “Thank you, Roztok. That was a very enjoyable game.”

“You, my dear Captain are a most worthy opponent and, it appears, very lucky at cards.”

Stifling a groan, she mumbled cynically, “Yes, well, we have a saying about that.”

As soon as she saw the look on Roztok’s face, she cursed herself for opening her mouth, but it was too late. The chronically inquisitive Onkallin had already leant forward, pinning her with his intense gaze. “A saying? And what is this saying, pray tell?”

Blinking rapidly, Kathryn pulled back a little so he couldn’t read her pained expression and gave a half-hearted chuckle. “It is an ancient idiom – not often used these days. In fact, it has all but disappeared from the vernacular.” She was hedging and her host was starting to frown in irritation. It wouldn’t do to antagonize the man – not after all they’d achieved.

She grudgingly relented. “The saying goes – ‘lucky at cards, unlucky in love’.”

He stared at her for a second or two and then let loose with a loud guffaw, slapping his middle like a kettledrum before roaring with laughter. She watched, a little mystified by his reaction as he changed color from pink to orange then to a bright chartreuse before pointing at her and Chakotay in turn, and choking out between gales of laughter, “But my dear, Captain, you are obviously the exception to the rule. You and the Commander – you are lucky in both, no?”

“No!” She snapped, but knew the guilty truth was evident in her defensive tone and panicked expression.

She glanced in Chakotay’s direction and watched him school his features, before he shook his head gently and addressed the still chortling alien. “It is merely a saying, Roztok, and holds no bearing in regard to the Captain and myself. Together, we command Voyager. We are good friends but that is all.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous. It’s written all over the pair of you that you are lovers. And if not lovers in the physical sense, then in every other way.” He positively glared at Kathryn. “You, Captain, are very unhappy about this impasse.”

Kathryn felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Realization struck like a cold fist in her middle. _“You’re a telepath?”_

He roared with laughter again, shaking his head in the negative. “I’d be a very bad one if I could not beat you in a single game of cards. No, I am not a telepath; however, my species does have empathic abilities. We can sense the emotions of those in close proximity – especially if those emotions are intense.” He put his elbows on the table and leaning forward, looked her straight in the eye. “And you, my dear Captain, have very intense feelings in regard to your Commander.” He turned sharply towards Chakotay, fixing him with an equally forceful stare. “And Commander, no one needs to read your mind to see how deeply you care for your Captain. It is apparent in every move you make. I find it heartening to see such devotion.” He leant back and placed his hand on his belly – presumably, his heart was located somewhere within that vastness – and sighed. “It does an old man good to see two people so much in love. You know, I’m just a romantic at heart.”

Kathryn couldn’t bring herself to look at Chakotay but could feel his eyes on her and the stares of everyone within earshot. It was vital that she defuse this situation as quickly as possible, but mortification had clamped her throat so tightly shut that she could barely swallow, let alone talk. There was no point denying the truth when her reaction made it so patently obvious how she felt, besides, he was empathic, he’d know she was lying.

God damn it!

Grasping blindly for any remnants of control, Kathryn met Roztok’s look with a candid one of her own. Diplomatically speaking, they were on shaky ground. To deny their host’s assertions was tantamount to accusing him of lying and to do that was out of the question. The only avenue open to her was to skirt around the truth as best she could without insulting him or losing her crew’s respect.

Clearing her throat to ensure that her voice didn’t squeak, she launched into a circuitous explanation. “Your abilities make it difficult to argue the point, Roztok, but no matter what you think you’ve ascertained about the Commander’s and my feelings for one another, due to the nature of our mission and the positions we hold on Voyager, anything more than a platonic relationship is out of the question.”

“Nonsense!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, that’s nonsense and you know it.” He leaned forward, his tone that of a chastising parent as his shrewd eyes met hers. There was challenge written in the rigid set of his jaw and armed with his empathic powers, there was no point arguing with him. She knew it and from the look on his face, he did too.

To make matters worse, she could feel Chakotay’s stare. No doubt, he was enjoying himself immensely. After all these years of wondering how she felt about him, he was in the process of finding out exactly how smitten she was.

Weighing up their desperate need for gallicite against the damage to her position as captain if her feelings towards her first officer were exposed, Kathryn did a quick mental calculation. After seven years, it probably wouldn’t be news to any of those present that she cared deeply for her second in command and, if it was news, she could always deny it, insisting that Roztok was mistaken in his ‘reading’ and that she’d pretended to play along to avoid jeopardizing the trade.

Inhaling a deep breath, Kathryn prepared herself for ‘limited’ exposure but before she could utter a word, a gentle hand on her arm silenced her. Turning, she met Chakotay’s kind gaze. His eyes narrowed and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He was coming to her rescue.

He lifted his hand away and looked past her to address the Onkallin behemoth. “With all due respect, Roztok, any relationship between Captain Janeway and myself is of a personal nature and not for public debate. If you wish to discuss matters pertaining to the information we forwarded or the status of our trade negotiations, we will be happy to oblige you.”

Roztok’s face began to change color again and Kathryn’s hand twitched ready to tap her combadge and order an emergency beam-out, but just when the alien looked as though he might explode, he guffawed in delight once more – his belly heaving and rolling as he laughed uproariously. He slapped his thighs, hugged himself as he chortled and looked fit to burst. Thankfully, after several minutes, he appeared to regain some control. However, it was short lived. After waving his hand in a sweeping gesture encompassing the room, he collapsed into gales of laughter again.

Kathryn risked a sideways glance at Chakotay; she read a wealth of apology and discomfort in his look but it didn’t occur to her to question why.

She wasn’t sure what Roztok found so amusing but a considerable part of her was simply glad that they hadn’t been shot at or taken hostage – an eventuality that was always on the cards – so to speak.

Her ‘being thankful for small mercies’ approach was quickly becoming a necessity.

Roztok finally stopped his heaving guffaws long enough to explain. “I beg your pardon, Captain. I am not laughing at you; I am amused by your commander’s gallant attempt to maintain propriety and your crew’s reaction – most of whom, I am delighted to tell you, are enormously relieved that your feelings for your commander are at last revealed.”

She really wished he would stop referring to Chakotay as ‘her’ commander. For God’s sake, she didn’t own the man.

Risking a glance towards ‘her’ next in command, she met his worried eyes. He looked mortified, and it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps there were reasons other than the ones she’d assumed, that were causing him to be less than thrilled with this ‘outing’ of her feelings.

It took a heartbeat or two before the penny dropped and then came the crippling realization that he wasn’t just displeased, he was appalled and embarrassed. She’d made the foolish assumption that her feelings were reciprocated, that he loved her as much as she loved him.

But gauging by his reaction, she’d been mistaken.

Her heart clenched painfully in her chest.

Roztok’s revelations had put Chakotay in an untenable position. Lumbered with his captain’s unwanted affections, he was embarrassed for both of them and probably wondering how the hell he could extricate himself from this nightmare without making a fool of himself or her.

Roztok was only an empath and although he’d said that Chakotay cared for her, ‘caring’ was a world away from being in love with her.

As the weight of realization landed like a brick in her chest, she felt something shatter inside. All her assumptions had been wrong; the cherished promises that had been her emotional scaffolding for so many years were simply pathetic fantasies with no substance. It was plain to see that he felt nothing more than friendship for her and as deep and abiding as that friendship might be, it wasn’t love.

Kathryn was shattered.

She felt like she was drowning in quicksand, metaphorically flailing and floundering in this new reality where she was entirely alone. Panic began to bulldoze humiliation out of the way. She could feel the steady rise of mortification and shame bubbling up from her toes. To make matters worse, this was all happening in full view of the crew. What in god’s name had she been thinking?

She had to get out of there and fast. Gathering every last ounce of fortitude, she squashed all her feelings down, compacting and compressing them into a small but hopefully manageable Omega molecule of anguish.

As hard as she tried, however, she couldn’t stop her lips from thinning and the hurt from reflecting in her gaze. Noticing her distress, Roztok’s laughter stopped abruptly and he reached across the table to grasp her hand in his giant paw. Her instinct was to snatch her hand away – the blundering fool was the cause of this awful mess – but her training ran deep and she forced herself to keep still, even though it was taxing her terribly.

“I’m sorry, Captain. I did not realize that you would find this so distressing. I only wished to reassure you of the aura of happiness that this knowledge has elicited from your crew. I apologize for making you uncomfortable. To make amends, I will organize for the shipment of gallicite to be immediately beamed to your hold and if you would like to assign members of your team to gather the perishable items you requested, I’m sure we can have your vessel loaded and ready to depart by the end of the day.”

She nodded brusquely and stood, dragging her hand from under his at the same time. “Thank you, Lavan, that would be much appreciated.” She refused to acknowledge his apology – to do so would be tantamount to admitting that there was some substance to his claims and she couldn’t do that and maintain even a pretence of dignity in front of the crew.

With that thought, she quickly cast her eyes over those gathered in the great hall. The first person she saw was Tom Paris. He was smiling broadly but the smile faded as he noted her expression, and she watched his brow furrow into a worried frown. Was her distress that obvious?

She didn’t dare look at Chakotay; his pitying stare would be enough to destroy her.

With a nod to Onkallin leader, she excused herself. “Thank you for your hospitality, Roztok. I must return to the ship and coordinate the transfers from my Bridge. Commander Chakotay will liaise from here. Commander?” She glanced at him for a nano-second, but before he could respond to her order, she tapped her combadge. “Janeway to Voyager, one to beam up. Energize.”

In a blessed tingle of blue, the great hall faded around her and the welcome grey walls of Voyager’s transporter room took their place. Kathryn gave the operator a brisk nod before she trotted down from the platform and headed out the door.

Tapping her combadge, she informed the Bridge of the imminent arrival of the gallicite. Tuvok nominated himself to go to the cargo bay to oversee the transfer while B’Elanna co-ordinated planet-side. Kathryn signed off and continued along the corridor towards the turbo lifts.

Being back on Voyager amidst familiar surroundings went some way towards calming her inner turmoil – it always had that effect; her captain’s persona was much easier to access when she was on her own ‘turf’ but she knew this wasn’t the end of the day’s traumas. Chakotay wouldn’t be far behind her and knowing him, he would be full of reassurances and kind words.

However, now that she knew the truth, she wasn’t sure that she could survive the cloying niceties without betraying the depth of her hurt. She had no choice, however. It was imperative that she save face and prove to him – and anyone else who had been witness to the debacle on the planet – that she was fine and in absolute control.

It wouldn’t be easy and if duty’s incessant call hadn’t beckoned so loudly, she would have made a detour via her quarters to take time to gather her fortitude. But as usual, obligation and responsibility took precedence. The gallicite was on its way and she needed to speak to Neelix about their fresh produce requirements. After allowing herself a slow count to five to get her thoughts in order, she stepped into the turbo lift and ordered it to Deck 2. Within moments, she was marching into the Mess Hall.

Neelix looked up at the sound of the opening doors and bid her a cheery welcome. “Captain, good afternoon. I hear the negotiations are going well. Congratulations. Your good luck has saved us again.”

 _Luck!_ Phht! She gave him a grim smile as a mental image of her pulling his whiskers out by the roots flashed unbidden through her mind. She quelled the urge. If only he knew. Ignoring his chatter, she got down to business. “I’d like you to join the away team and supervise the selection of the fresh produce from what’s on offer. You know what’s best for the crew and our tolerances.”

Before she’d even finished speaking, he was whipping off his apron and sidling out from behind the counter. “I’ll beam down immediately.”

“Once you’re on the surface, report to Commander Chakotay.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Five seconds later, the Mess Hall doors snapped shut behind him and she was alone. Taking a deep breath, she tried to centre herself but the cruel ache in her chest was almost impossible to ignore. She had to move on from this – there was no other option – but it hurt so damn much and in so many ways.

Wandering over to the viewport, she stared down at the dull green planet orbiting below. She wondered briefly if it would seem more inviting if the humiliation of the last half an hour hadn’t occurred. Unable to find it within herself to care one way or another, she turned away.

She didn’t want to dwell on her unhappy thoughts; they were best left to the privacy of her quarters and the long night ahead. She would let the tears come then and in solitude, try to nurse her broken heart back together again. But for now, it was time to get back to work. Inhaling another deep breath, she steeled herself and headed for the exit.

The automatic doors slid open on her approach but it seemed that the fates were not done toying with her yet. Just as she reached the exit, Chakotay came around the corner and they almost ran into one another.

Startled, they both stopped in their tracks.

She really didn’t need this and he was the last person she wanted to see, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he wouldn’t let this go. With her heart cracked open, her instinct was to brazen it out – a sound tactical maneuver to minimize casualties.

She snapped, “Commander, I just sent Neelix to rendezvous with you on the planet.”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her face but answered the implied question in a quiet steady voice. “We met in the Transporter room. He’s reporting to Paris instead.”

Kathryn gave a terse nod and stepped to one side in an attempt to make her escape. “The gallicite will be here soon, I’ll be in my Ready Room prioritizing the department requisitions.”

“Kathryn?” His voice was deep and resonant, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was an edge of desperation in his tone but perhaps it was simply wishful thinking.

She’d taken three determined strides but couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t heard him. Turning slowly, she schooled her features and raised an enquiring brow. “Commander?”

A flash of hurt or perhaps irritation darkened his features, before he controlled his reaction and took a deep breath. “I thought we should talk about what happened on the planet.”

“This is not a good time. I have duties to perform.”

“Will there ever be a good time?”

Kathryn frowned. He was doing a lousy job of hiding his frustration. The turn of events had unsettled him and understandably so. It wasn’t everyday that you had to deal with the uncomfortable revelation that your superior officer was in love with you. She could understand why he would want to smooth things over and get back to the business of running the ship. If she were in his position, it’s what she would want to do, too, but the sad fact remained that at present, her heart was an open wound and any poking or prodding was likely to cause permanent damage. Despite what most people thought, it was an extremely fragile part of her anatomy.

The only way she was going survive this was to gain the upper hand. Taking an offensive position had always been her tactic of choice, so, changing tack, she decided to confront the problem head on.

She met his eyes and voiced her apology. “I’m sorry you were embarrassed, Chakotay. It was an unfortunate turn of events. I had no idea that Roztok was empathic. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have…” Her voice trailed off as the obvious question pounded against her temples. _Wouldn’t have what…? Wouldn’t have thought about how much I love you_. That was pretty much impossible. Her feelings for Chakotay were woven into the fabric of her existence – he’d taken up permanent residence in her heart years ago.

He looked puzzled now and more than a little worried. “It’s okay, Kathryn. I understand.”

Pain stabbed at her insides but she remained resolute. “I knew you would.”

However, he wasn’t finished. “Empathic abilities are inexact. I know he misread you. You don’t feel that way about me and it was tactless of Roztok to imply that you did.”

What the hell was he talking about? _‘Misread her.’_ She should have been relieved but instead, she blurted, “He didn’t misread me, he just…”

Chakotay’s face reflected his surprise. “He didn’t?” He took a half step towards her. “What are you saying, Kathryn?” This time his voice trailed off but she wasn’t sure what to make of his expression or his posture.

Confusion was making her slow-witted and she frowned as she stared at him, trying to make some sort of sense out of the words he wasn’t saying. He looked troubled, his expression at odds with what she thought he wanted to say, which made things even more befuddling. This was all such a muddle but decisions had to be made and, if nothing else, decision-making was her forte; it was what she’d been trained for.

If they were ever going to find their way out of this tangle of misconstrued messages and fumbled apologies, she needed to dig deep. She quickly did a risk assessment in her head, weighing up the options – the pros and cons.

What would he do if she told him that Roztok was right and she loved him? How would he react? Perhaps he wasn’t as averse to the idea as she’d presumed and she couldn’t stop the blooming surge of hope igniting in her chest at the thought. It would be a relief but there were more than a few problems inherent in exposure.

Chakotay was a passionate man, he always had been. He was also prone to grandiose gestures and impulsive acts of zeal. If he felt even a small measure of what she felt for him, would she – with her own feelings a mere scratch below the surface – have the strength of will to stop him from taking this further? With that thought, her mind filled with visions of him sweeping her into his arms and pressing her up against the bulkhead or draping her across one of the mess hall tables as he made love to her. She could feel her face flush and a heat that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature sear through her body.

His dark eyes were studying her, his brow creased in concern, and she could see how tense he was in the way his shoulders hunched towards her. She desperately wanted to reach for them, to stroke the tension away and run her fingers across his forehead to smooth the furrows of concern. Her fingertips tingled with the need to touch his lips, before capturing them in a heated kiss, her teeth tugging gently at his bottom lip and her tongue teasing at their fullness.

Her eyes shot upwards, guiltily meeting his gaze as it occurred to her that maybe she should be afraid of her own untapped passion. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d imagined what it would be like to make love to Chakotay. Her fantasies were long-held, complex and – she cringed inwardly – pretty damned comprehensive. There had been many a long, lonely night to navigate during the last seven years.

As much as she should have been appalled at the direction her thoughts were taking, she had to admit that none of the scenarios were entirely abhorrent. God, she just knew he would be an amazing lover.

“Kathryn?”

Startled from her musings, she jumped a little guiltily and met his eyes with a look of surprise. He was staring at her again and she hoped he wasn’t able to read her thoughts as well as she imagined he could.

She swallowed. So much for going on the offensive; she panicked a little and demanded, “What are _you_ saying?”

Answering a question with a question was one of the oldest tricks in the book but in this game of emotional chicken, it was all she could think to do. It was a cheap shot but she had very few weapons left in her arsenal; Roztok had seen to that.

Chakotay stepped closer and the doors shut behind him. His brow was still knitted in a concerned frown. “Are you sure you want to do this here?”

On shaky ground, Kathryn huffed quietly and gave him a grim smile. “I’m not sure I want to do this anywhere but you’re probably right; this isn’t the place. I was on my way to the Bridge, we can…”

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate place for this conversation either.”

“We’re on duty, Commander; we have responsibilities.”

“I’m aware of that.” He didn’t try to hide his irritation and Kathryn couldn’t blame him. She was ducking and weaving – it was cowardly of her – and not the first time she’d used this ploy. If their positions were reversed, she’d be irked, too.

As a rude reminder of whom and where she was, her combadge chirped, giving her a few seconds reprieve.

_“Paris to Janeway.”_

“Janeway here.”

_“Captain, the gallicite is being transported as we speak and Neelix is negotiating for the foodstuffs – although, some of us are still debating the merits of that.”_

“Any idea how long it will take?”

_“B’Elanna is overseeing the transport from down here and from her estimates, we should have everything stowed and be ready to return to the ship in about three hours.”_

“Good work, Tom. Keep me updated on your progress.”

_“Aye, Captain.”_

The link closed and silence fell like a blanket over Kathryn and Chakotay.

Convinced that the moment had been lost, Kathryn prepared to move past Chakotay again and make her way to the Bridge but he stepped in front of her to block her path.

“Kathryn?”

“Chakotay.”

His tone was resolute. “This is too important to simply brush aside; we need to talk.”

A huge part of her was urging her to avoid this confrontation but her earlier musings hijacked her captain’s good sense and she stood rooted to the spot.

Chakotay gestured towards the Mess hall tables. “Join me for a coffee? There’s nothing pressing at the moment; the negotiations are over and Tuvok has things well in hand.”

How could she say no? To do so would appear churlish, not to mention spineless, and even though that was exactly how she was feeling, she owed him the courtesy of at least trying to resolve this impasse.

Of all the things she’d imagined doing today, having _‘this’_ conversation wasn’t one of them.

She nodded, albeit reluctantly, and moved towards one of the tables near the viewport as Chakotay headed to the replicator and ordered their drinks. Taking a seat, she faced the window and watched his reflection as he made his way towards her, only turning to face him once he’d placed her mug on the table. She quietly thanked him and took a sip. The coffee was hot and bracing but it didn’t settle the uneasiness in her middle or loosen the invisible fist that was still gripping her heart. There was nothing quite so tragic as unrequited love and she had a horrible feeling she was going to be dealing with the aftermath of such a revelation in the not too distant future.

He gave her what she interpreted as an encouraging smile, but it only made that fist grip tighter but it was also the impetus she needed. For God’s sake this was Chakotay – her best friend and closest confidant. He was the kindest man she knew and maybe if she were honest about her feelings, they could at least salvage their friendship from this mess.

Tapping into the bold Kathryn of old, she decided that there was no point delaying the inevitable. So after taking a deep breath, she sallied forth. “I’m sorry for being so evasive and spiky but this wasn’t quite where I saw myself today.” She noted his sympathetic look and although reassured, she still felt a stab of sadness. “I gather, you didn’t see yourself here, either but there’s no point prolonging the agony and I apologize if this is too blunt, but Roztok didn’t misread me. I am in love with you and have been for a very long time but having said that, I don’t expect you to reciprocate those feelings. This is my problem, not yours, and my admission in no way compels you to acknowledge what I’ve said or to feel in any way beholden – I want to make that perfectly clear.” She took a deep breath and before he could interrupt, she continued. “I will always respect you and even in light of all of this – or in spite of it – I hope that we can remain friends.”

Kathryn watched his face for any sign of dismay, amusement or – god forbid – pity, but he remained absolutely still. So still, in fact, that he didn’t appear to be breathing. After an interminable fifteen seconds or so, he stood and, without taking his eyes from hers, walked around to her side of the table and crouched down in front of her chair.

She followed him, her eyes riveted to each measured movement, her tension rising exponentially as she tried to figure out what he was going to do.

A gentle putdown, a reminder of all the times his overtures had been disregarded? He would be within his rights and she would endure the humiliation if only to save their relationship, but it would leave deep wounds that would take a long time to heal, if ever.

As she watched and waited, he picked up her hand and for the longest time, he simply stared at it, holding it gently between his own as though it were the most precious thing in the universe. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breathing was shallow and fast. The sweet tension was building to a point where she thought her bones might crack waiting for his reaction.

She steeled herself for his kind, but cajoling words of apology.

However, instead of speaking, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers and then her palm before those same lips kissed their way to the inside of her wrist. Her heart rate jumped as his breath warmed her skin while everything in the room faded to a sort of grey haze. The only things she was aware of were his lips – so soft and gentle – and her pulse jumping underneath their pressure and heat.

She desperately wanted to reach for him, to run her fingers through his hair, but she was frozen; her insides were vibrating but she couldn’t make her limbs move. Through all of her inner mayhem, his attention remained focused on the delicate skin of her wrist, his thumb pressing gently over her thudding pulse point. He held it for several seconds, simply staring at it before he turned her hand over and with his forefinger, he began to trace along the tendons and veins. He followed each one, gently mapping their meandering path from finger to wrist, over and over again. It was mesmerizing and deeply erotic.

Inhaling a shaky breath, her entire body now trembled with need. He was only touching her hand and all she could think of as she watched his long, sinuous fingers was what it would feel like to be touched elsewhere. The thought was almost too much.

Lulled into a stupor of arousal, Kathryn raised her head slowly when he halted his caress. His eyes, dark and expressive, met hers again as he raised his other hand and caressed her cheek.

There was a hint of hesitance in his touch – he’d never been so bold before. Touching had been her purview – a hand on his shoulder, his chest, his cheek. Teasing indulgences that only whetted her appetite for more, but it was somewhere she’d dared not go – until now.

His fingers rested gently along her jawline as his thumb caressed her bottom lip. For the longest moment, his eyes held hers before he leant forward and took her mouth in a kiss that stole the air from her lungs and sent a shiver tumbling down her spine.

His mouth was soft, but his touch firm, it spoke of need but tasted of love. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her neck, his fingers sliding further into her hair as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. With that one gesture, she was left with no doubt about his feelings.

None whatsoever.

Her relief shook the tension loose and triggered a small garbled cry from deep in her chest. At the sound, his arms wrapped around her and he stood, pulling her to her feet at the same time.

Her hand dove into his hair and the other gripped his shoulder, her fingers reflexively digging into the muscles above his collarbone.

She could feel the walls of her emotional dam about to burst, but he seemed so composed, so sure, but then she felt him tremble – a shudder beneath his skin that was so endearing but at the same time made her weak-kneed with want.

Excitement and arousal threaded along her nerves and veins and she pulled back briefly to change angles before she kissed him again.

When he finally pulled back and they simultaneously gasped shaky lungfuls of air, he grinned. “Perhaps this isn’t the best place to have our ‘discussion’.”

Kathryn wanted to throw her head back and laugh; guffaw like Roztok and howl with delight, but instead, she grinned and sank further into Chakotay’s arms, humming her agreement.

She was going to suggest they go to her quarters, but before the words could filter from her brain to her mouth, Chakotay tapped his combadge. “Computer, site to site transport for the Captain and myself to the First Officer’s quarters.” He tucked her up against him. “Energize.”

She should have been horrified at the proprietary tone and action, and reprimanded him on the spot. To use internal transporters for personal use was strictly against protocol and regulations. Consoles all over the ship would have lit up like Christmas trees at the request and within moments, word of their commanding officers’ location, not to mention speculation as to their activities – during duty shift, no less – would spread like wildfire.

But for once she didn’t care.

For the first time in almost seven years, she didn’t give a tinker’s cuss what was happening elsewhere on the ship or who knew what they were doing. Roztok had done her a favor when he’d told her of the crew’s acceptance and delight.

The only thing that mattered was what was about to take place within the confines of _her_ first officer’s quarters – and yes, it appeared he was hers after all.

She smiled as the blue shimmer encompassed her.

* * *

They materialized the middle of his living area and he kissed her again and she kissed him back – hard. His lips were magic and as she eased away a little, her fingers skimmed across them, feeling their warmth and the moisture from their kiss.  His hair was soft under her fingertips, his skin supple, his taste familiar but exotic and his body solid and strong against hers.

And, she realized as he tugged her closer, very aroused.

A blissfully guiltless and very uncaptain-like thought flashed through Kathryn’s arousal addled mind. If their world ended at that moment, she’d die a happy woman, a very happy woman. Only a few seconds later, as Chakotay’s lips found that sensitive spot just below her ear, she amended that thought. Hell no, dying now would be a very bad idea. With years of catching up to do, she wanted to live forever.

While he kissed her neck, he managed to unzip her jacket and slip it from her shoulders. Meanwhile, she slid her hands under his jacket and stroked the smooth skin of his back, her fingers playing down the ridges and dips along his spine.

Preoccupied with the feel of his naked back, Kathryn took a moment to realize that he’d tugged her tee free and his fingers were teasing the bare skin along the small of her back. At the same time, his tongue lapped at the hollow of her collarbone, his lips plucking at the skin of her neck.

“Oh, God, yes.” She moaned before kissing him once more, harder this time, her mouth moving over his, before dragging down to his throat until he gave an answering groan. The sound was raw and guttural. It made her inner muscles twitch and throb.

His hand skittered over her breast and although several layers of clothing still stood between them, her whole body had become exquisitely sensitized; every nerve ending tingled and all she wanted to do was feel, taste and touch. She tried but failed to catalogue each sensation; they were all too much and too new and all she could do was rasp a hitching groan and pull him closer.

His hands skimmed over her body, his lips, his tongue, his fingers staking their claim. The simmer turned to a searing burn; each touch like a dash of accelerant on the fire of her need – inside and out. Her mind was a blur of sensations, fractured fantasies and glimpses of his beautiful face, lips and eyes.

Her body shuddered as his fingers again trailed along the thin line of exposed skin above the waistband of her uniform pants and without another thought, she began shrugging out of her clothes and at the same time, tugged at his. It was a frenzied and clumsy disrobing. Undressing without losing contact was difficult, but their need to remain connected was a blood pounding necessity.

At last, his jacket and tee were gone and as she gripped the back of his neck with one hand, she dragged her fingernails over his chest. He hissed, the sound almost pained, as she left four parallel lines on his honey colored skin. She met his eyes, to read his reaction.

Her breath caught. His eyes were dark, luminescent and filled with love; his breathing ragged and as uneven as hers.

Kathryn stared, startled by the intensity of his look and when he pulled her hard against him and husked in her ear, “Kathryn, I want you now,” she almost came undone; she shuddered and her body became boneless, liquid and desperate.

He must have felt her tremble and scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the bedroom and placed her on the bed before stripping the last remnants of clothing from her body. Before she could catch her breath, he began to kiss his way from her mouth to her chest to her belly and beyond, muttering, “Beautiful, so damned beautiful.”

He gently urged her legs apart and began to kiss and nuzzle the soft skin of her inner thigh. His hot breath bathed her, his whiskered cheek contrasting with the softness of his lips, the wet heat of his mouth leaving trails of moisture that cooled quickly in the recycled air. His hands caressed her, stroking over her hips and abdomen, his thumbs rubbing over the sensitive hollow of her hipbones before he gripped her hips tightly and pulled her close.

She cried out as his mouth covered her – hot, insistent, beautiful. He kissed her sex as he’d kissed her mouth, gently, reverently. Tasting and exploring as he learned the shape and feel of her, gauging her reactions and revisiting the places that made her gasp and jolt. She writhed and squirmed under his hands and mouth, deliciously at his mercy, her fingers alternately tangling in his hair and rasping against the sheets as she clawed for purchase to push harder against his probing tongue and mouth.

The cumulous billowing of her orgasm rolled in like a storm and just like a steamy summer’s afternoon in Indiana, it hit hard and unexpectedly. With a series of mewling cries, her body jolted and thrust towards her tormentor, her back arching as her inner muscles hungrily pulsed and gripped at nothing until he gently inserted a finger and pressed his thumb against the hard nub of her clitoris, triggering another deluge of exquisite spasms. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes as she gasped for air, her chest heaving and her body shaking as the lingering paroxysms of her climax faded.

Covered in a sheen of perspiration, flushed and exhausted, she flopped back onto the bed and sighed.

“Oh my, I – oh my…” She looked down at him from under the fringe of her lashes, a smile breaking across her features. “I’m… that was… I don’t know where to begin.” He slid his fingers from inside her and gently cupped her mound before kissing her there and shuffling up the bed to lie beside her. She felt his erection, hot and hard against her thigh – he hadn’t come yet – and with a sly grin, she decided that this was something she could most enthusiastically remedy.

She moved to straddle him but he gently held her in place, nuzzling her neck, his hand cupping her breast. “Not yet. I just want to hold you for a moment.”

The calm, steady look in his eye added yet another layer to this extraordinary experience. Kathryn had never felt anything like this in her life. She’d loved, had been loved in return and was not inexperienced – her unexpected hiatus of celibacy notwithstanding – but far from wanting to sound like a character from a romance holo-novel, this was something else entirely. Her love for this man, so deeply rooted in friendship and mutual respect, knew no bounds and those solid foundations enriched the emotion beyond anything she could have imagined. All her doubts evaporated into thin air. He loved her, his eyes told the story and she would never question that truth again. Her heart flew.

She made love to him then. Folding herself over him and around him. Straddling his hips, she took him deep and slow; the sensation, the pleasure of it was almost a torment. Her body hungered for him, and although she’d already climaxed, her inner muscles tightened around the hard length of him, drawing him deeper until she wasn’t sure where he ended and she began.

It was sweet torture, her muscles tight from her years of abstinence but yielding easily as he stretched the long unused tissues. Her eyes felt heavy, her whole body felt dreamy and sluggish, all sensation focused inward to the sense of fullness and wrenching need.

Her body convulsed, rhythmic cries shook from her, the spasms intense, but she dragged her eyes open to watch him. With a helpless cry, his fingers dug deeply into the soft flesh of her hips as he came. Body arching up off the bed, sweat beading on his forehead, he pressed deeper until his body finally collapsed back onto the covers.

“Oh God.” He half laughed, half groaned. “You’re going to kill me, you know. I’m an old man.”

Kathryn laughed and tightened her inner muscles as punishment. “You are not.”

He groaned again. “Ah, be gentle. I’m not used to this.”

“And I am?”

He looked up at her then, a smile tugging at this lips and a gaze drenched with love. “I know it’s been a while. For me, too.”

“Our life out here doesn’t really allow for much down time, or the opportunities to find someone to love.”

He reached for her then and pulled her down beside him, tucking her up against his side, one arm under her neck and his other draped over her hips to anchor her close. “I found mine years ago, I was just biding my time.”

She turned towards him; his eyes were closed, but the remnants of a very satisfied grin softened his mouth.

“I hope you’ll be very happy with this lover of yours.”

One eye opened a sliver and his smile widened. “I intend to be.”

Kathryn gave him a gentle dig in the ribs. “Have you run this past your captain yet? She might be interested, you know.”

“I hope she is, considering it’s her downtime that is forfeit. Any new hobbies are going to have to wait.”

Kathryn pretended to consider her options but she lost her train of thought when he cupped her breast, rubbing his finger over her nipple until it hardened. “You play dirty pool, Commander.”

“Ha!” He laughed. It was a joyous sound and one she could hear again and again. “You can talk. It took me weeks to sit next to you after the _‘you’re stick, Commander’_ comment that first night in Sandrine’s. It’s been a long seven years.”

Reality began to edge its way into their cocoon of joy. “There are a lot more years ahead of us, too.”

His eyes opened cautiously. “Yes, but from now on, we travel them together. On and off the Bridge.”

She had to say it. “It’s against protocol.”

He shrugged. “So is using Borg technology in our power couplings, sensor array and shielding, Dralem replicator technology, Entharan weaponry. We won’t mention having a Talaxian as our ambassador or two Borg drones running Astrometrics – hell, without all our pilfered technology, we wouldn’t have an Astrometrics lab in the first place.” He rolled her underneath him and Kathryn looked up into determined eyes. “We need this, Kathryn. We need each other and we need to acknowledge this love. We’ve ignored it for too long and it was killing us. This…” His hand swept down her side and he nestled himself more snugly between her thighs. “… might be against protocol, but it’s not against regulations and I think you’ve proven your dedication to the crew and their well-being – there is no doubt as to that.”

Kathryn was convinced. She hadn’t really had any doubts from the moment he’d held her hand but it she was enjoying his arguments and the stern look of resolve on his handsome face. He would fight tooth and nail for her and she wanted to burst with the joy of it.

His eyes narrowed and a smile teased at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve made up your mind already, haven’t you?”

She shrugged, her fingers stroking his cheek and then tracing the outline of his tattoo. “You’ve been saving up those arguments for quite some time.”

“I have a PADD full of them, if you want to see.”

“I’ll use them as my defense at my court martial.”

He looked aghast and began to pull away. Kathryn wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, no you don’t. It’s taken me almost seven years to get you here, you’re not going anywhere.”

“A court martial?”

“Chakotay, we’re thirty thousand light years from Earth. We’ll be in our seventies before we get home. What could they possibly do to me that would be worse than not having this and not loving you?” He looked surprised, but delighted as she continued. “You’re not the only one with the PADD full of arguments. I was a fool and should have said something sooner.”

“I could have pushed the point.”

“I would only have dug my heels in. I had to think it was my idea.”

“Stubborn, single-minded, head-strong, willful, wily, smart, courageous, caring, beautiful, daring and as sexy as hell.”

Her heart pounded in her chest but she tried to keep the moment light. “See, you know exactly what I’m like.”

Heat darkened his gaze as his eyes trailed over her chest. He muttered distractedly as his mouth closed over her breast. “Hmmm, I do now.”

She sipped a breath through parted lips and squirmed. “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

He didn’t even raise his head as he shook it in the negative and tugged at the nipple between his teeth and hummed, “Nuh uh.”

She could hardly blame him – she was more than a little distracted as well, and again, she searched her conscience for the guilt and shame she should by rights be feeling, but there was nothing there except relief and white-hot arousal.

Her conscience had always been her most accurate arbiter of what was right and wrong, and if it was content with the choice she’d made, she wasn’t about to start doubting it now.

They made love again before Tuvok contacted her with an update on the cargo transfers from the planet. She smiled to herself as he diplomatically suggested that the ship would be ready to leave orbit in an hour if she and the commander were finished with their away mission reports.

Kathryn assured him that they had finished and that they would beam down to the planet to personally thank Roztok and say their farewells.

It was hard to judge, but there seemed to be a note of fatherly acceptance in Tuvok’s voice; still, she wasn’t sure.

As difficult as it was, it was time for both Kathryn and Chakotay to return to work. Despite the desire to stay curled up in his arms, it wasn’t as hard as she imagined it would be to don her uniform and become ‘captain’ again. The magic stayed with her and a sense of purpose billowed out from there, filling her chest and spreading to her limbs. Something fundamental had shifted within her. The languor and apathy that had plagued her had been replaced by an acceptance of their situation and a renewed enthusiasm for the journey.

* * *

Kathryn shook hands with Lavan Roztok and bid him a gracious farewell. She could tell from the look in his eye that he was reading her and his ‘cat that ate the canary’ smile made it obvious that he was aware of the change in her ‘status’.  Kathryn gamely met his gaze but he said nothing, however; the grip on her hand tightened as he wished her a safe and happy journey.

As she stood next to Chakotay, waiting for the transporter to beam them back to Voyager, she looked past the colorful assortment of aliens to the vista beyond. The morning’s dreary musings seemed so far away, and she smiled at the familiar but now comforting view of grasslands, forests and wooded mountains beyond.

It was a far cry from the rich green of Indiana and they still had years of travel ahead of them, pockmarked by danger and perils unimaginable, but with Chakotay by her side, she’d found a peace and a will to go on.

Until Earth filled the view screen, that was all she could ask for and all she needed.

Contentment washed over her as the blue shimmer of the transporter took her home.

 

Fin


End file.
